There Was A Mrs Clause
by Poxy Kirkman
Summary: He's arrogant, big headed, and comes across as a bit of an idiot sometimes. And she falls for him anyway, because behind his tough exterior he's kind, caring and helps her see the wonder in life. The story of Nicholas St North and his wife.
1. Chapter 1

So this fic was inspired by aquodox, and it shall be five chapters long :) thanks for the prompt man, you're awesome!

So basically it's looking at North when he was a young gent, and yeah. Read on to find out!

Also, please read my other fics, specially **'The End Of Summer'**. It's coming to an end now, and it's incredibly long, but ah well :)

The cover art belongs to MeisterC and you can find them on DeviantArt and Tumblr.

Cheers!

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"Mr North, I think it's admirable that you saved a whole village from, what was it? Pitch Black. But in all honesty you seem very arrogant, so please-" the young barmaid snapped her cloth on the bar and glared at the gentleman smirking back at her. "-stop talking."

The auburn haired woman sighed to herself and turned back to the keg on the back counter to pour a tankard of ale for another bar fly. She had only just blossomed into her early twenties, her hair was long and naturally wavy, and had the most beautiful tones of red and chestnut blended throughout it. Her eyes were a dazzling bright blue, and her figure was womanly and very well filled out. It was something that she knew attracted men into her bar, as much as she hated it, and she was – unfortunately – used to drunken advances and shameless flirting from married men.

She had to admit though, North's storytelling tactic was new. He span what she was sure would make an excellent bedtime story. What with shadow demons, fighting Yeti and daring sword fights. It certainly caught her attention anyway, but she took his story with a pinch of salt. The fact that he'd made himself the hero in his tale only made him seem very self obsessed, and she way his eyes wandered over her sickened her slightly. She was sure he was a pleasant enough young man, but when drunk he came across as something of a dog. She hated drunk men with a passion, for many reasons... most of which she didn't want to go into.

"I don't think you understand how dangerous Pitch is!" North exclaimed from behind her, and she turned to scowl at him. His blue eyes, just a shade lighter than her own, were twinkling, hiding slightly behind his mess of brown hair, and he was smirking behind his rough beard.

"I'm sure he was a nightmare," she scoffed, but he cut over her.

"He is the King of Nightmares," he corrected, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Oh, I'm sure he is," she muttered, but as the barmaid went to turn away his hand shot out and reached over the bar, wrapping around her wrist to stop her moving, and she froze.

"You don't believe me," he said quietly, and she couldn't help but notice how his voice dropped an octave. She took a slow, steadying breath.

"No, you're right. I don't believe you. And I think you've had quite enough to drink Mr North, so I'm cutting you off."

The auburn haired woman wrenched her arm, tugging her wrist out of his grasp while her other arm shot forward, her fingers wrapping around the handle of his tankard and she wrenched it away from him. It was only half emptied, and he made a small noise of protest but did nothing to stop her.

She went back to pouring more ale for the other men in the bar, but she was all too aware of the piercing blue eyes following her around. As she passed him on the way back to the keg she caught him watching her, and she felt herself getting an insane mix of emotions, something between anger and a thrill. But he was smiling slightly, and he looked somewhat amused by her which immediately made her scowl deepen.

But before she could say anything, he had already opened his mouth.

"Do you not believe in magic, miss?" he asked, very politely.

"Yes Mr North, but your story seems more like a tall tale," she retorted, sweeping her hair back from her face.

"Maybe if you allowed yourself to open your eyes a little, you would be able to see the truth in this wondrous story," North argued, and the young woman could tell by the tone of his voice, the way his eyes narrowed further still, and how his huge body tensed up that he didn't like to be challenged like this. So naturally she felt the morbid need to irritate him further still – poke the bear with a stick. She placed both of her hands on the bar top, and leaned forward towards him until they were merely inches away from one another.

"I see wonder in a lot of things, Mr North. The patterns in ice. In each and every snowflake, and how it has it's own unique shape. The bright lights in a child's eyes when you tell them tall tales such as your own. But seeing the wonder in your generic fairy story lark? Not a chance."

Both sets of bright blue eyes glared daggers at the other, until North growled in frustration and stood up abruptly. His stool scared back along the wooden floor, screeching as it went, and it sent a shudder through the room. He towered above her, staring down coldly as he picked up his coat and left the bar to face the bitter blizzard outside. The barmaid watching him go and felt a small twinge of guilt in her stomach. He'd been trying to impress her with his story, but she'd shot him down quite horribly... if she saw him tomorrow she'd give him a free drink, but for now she actually had to focus on turfing the rest of the drunks out of her bar so she could shut up shop.

And as the last man stumbled out the door she locked it behind him and set to cleaning the place up a little ready for tomorrow. She swept the floor half heartedly, feeling too tired to be bothered with it, and she left the glasses that had been used in a large tub for her to wash in the morning. Grabbing her coat and long white scarf blew the candles out and left to go home. Stepping out into the cold night air she hissed slightly, longing already to rush home and dive into bed to warm herself.

Her fingers fumbled in the cold, and just as she did finally manage to turn the heavy iron key in the lock, the young woman could have sword she felt a presence behind her. It was probably a drunk here to beg for one last pint before he had to drag himself home and listen to his wife scream herself silly at him.

"We're closed now sir," she said gently, turning to face the person behind her, and shuddered to a halt.

She was staring into eyes bright and golden as the sun, but they seemed cold. There was a malice there... an evil.

Quickly she backed up, her back hitting the door, and she stared up in terror at this being shrouded in darkness and shadows, with a thin pale face and jet black hair.

She could only watch as he raised something in his hand to strike her, and she leaped out of the way, landing flat on her stomach in the piling snow. She flipped herself over and backed herself up into a snowdrift. She didn't know who he was, but she found him utterly terrifying. As he raised his arm again, the woman felt a shriek rip form her throat. Then all of a sudden there was another shadow flying over her, and the sounds of metal crashing on metal rang through the air. She couldn't stop herself from watching, and she recognised her rescuer immediately. North.

Holding her breath, she pushed herself back as far as she could, but was still too mesmerised to stop watching and escape. The way North parried the attacker, how he drove him away and blacked his attacks... she never realised he was so skilled. And then in one large arching swing North drove his sword through the dark being, and she watched in shock as he seemed to evaporate and melt into the shadows. There was a moment when everything was still, and quiet. It was as if the wind dared not breath and the world had stopped rotating for a moment. And she watched North as he turned slowly, his blue eyes piercing through the dark and he started towards her slowly.

He watched her for a second quietly before he sheathed his sword and slowly extended his hand to her. Their eyes met, and she saw a genuine kindness glowing within them. She reached up and took his hand, and gently he pulled her to her feet. She half expected him to rub this in her face, criticise her for not believing him sooner. But he said nothing, only glanced over her for any sign of injury.

"I'm sorry," she blurted, feeling her cheeks burn red. "For not believing in yo-"

"Don't be," he cut over her, and she felt her mouth shut quickly. "It was a strange story to tell, I didn't expect you to believe."

"Was that Pitch Black?" she asked quietly, and he nodded in reply. Biting her lip, she glanced away then looked back up at him, feeling slightly overwhelmed by his sheer size. "I think I owe you a beer."

He burst out laughing, nodding slightly as she led him back to her bar, pulling the key from her pocket.

"I'll certainly believe you from now on," she said quietly.

"That's good," he chuckled, as he followed her through the door into the warm bar. She moved away from him and lit a few candles upon the bar. She poured him a tankard of ale before she grabbed a bottle of wine for herself and a glass before pouring her own drink.

"I need to thank you, Mr North, for saving me," she said quietly, sitting beside him at the bar.

"It's no problem. I couldn't have just sat there and watched... I'm too arrogant to pass up an opportunity to be the hero," he added with a laugh, and she felt herself flush red.

"And call me Nicholas," he said gently.

"Well, thank you Nicholas," she whispered, staring into her wine."

"What's your name?" he asked politely, and she found herself smiling.

"Amelia."

"Well thank you Amelia, for being a wonderful damsel in distress. It makes the job easier."

Both of them burst out laughing, their blue eyes meeting and focusing on the others as they talked through the night, and It didn't occur to either of them that their hands were clasped together on the counter.


	2. Chapter 2

Another chapter for you lovely folks :D

Please enjoy, and check out my other RotG fics. Specially 'The End Of Summer', it's very long, but I've nearly finished it :)

Have fun! Please review!

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"Aren't you scared Amelia?" her friend asked, sweeping Amelia's long auburn hair up for her, pinning it into a messy bun before pursing her lips and pulling a few loose curls out to frame her face. It seemed to make her blue eyes shine a little bit more, and she looked simply radiant as she smiled at her reflection in the mirror. "You haven't known him that long, really."

"It's been a year Lana, and he's just... amazing," she breathed, feeling her cheeks flush red.

"Only a year though! Are you sure you love this man?" Lana asked, flicking her long blond hair out of her face and pulling a slight face. Lana knew her friend had fallen head over heels with Nicholas St North, but she also remembered little over a year ago when he was merely a patron in her bar, testing her wits and driving her crazy with his little jibes and comments. The blond had met the man on several occasions, mostly when he was with Amelia, and she knew they both loved one another. She'd never actually seen a couple that looked so good together, but they did. And even though sometimes he teased her or sometimes she wound him up, they always seemed to kiss and make up.

Looking into one another's eyes, smiling and whispering how much they loved one another. It was sickly to watch sometimes, but the blond secretly stole hope from it that maybe she would find her soul mate, even in the most unlikely of places.

Because that's what they were, Amelia and Nicholas. Soul mates.

Her only qualm was that he was away a lot... she'd watched as Amelia had gotten quieter when he went away – sometimes for weeks, once for a month – because she always seemed worried about him. It was painful to watch, and she didn't know if her friend would cope if something happened to Nicholas.

"You know I love him Lana, don't be so stupid," Amelia scoffed, standing from her stool and twirling around. "Anyway, how do you think I look?"

"I always said you'd make a beautiful bride, and the dress is lovely. Just a shame your fiancé is going to rip it off you tonight," Lana laughed, earning herself a slap on her arm, but Amelia laughed too despite everything. Lana knew what Amelia had gone through when she was younger, she was aware of the abuse she's suffered, but it all seemed to be forgotten about when she was with Nicholas, and she couldn't thank the man enough for that.

The dress was gorgeous though. Made of the finest laces and furs, it would keep her warm and she'd look stunning as she walked down the isle in the crisp winter air. Her hair was clipped up and ready, all that was left was the veil. And in Amelia's opinion, it was the most beautiful thing of all. It was only really simple lace, but North had taken it one night and had worked some magic on it. The lace had the tiniest crystals sewn in so delicately, and when she pulled it over her face as the bride should, she could see snowflakes. Each one had it's own unique pattern.

But before long the chatter between Amelia and Lana ended, and nervously she watched as the grandfather clock ticked down the seconds until she'd be walking down the isle. And when the clock chimed one, her blue eyes flickered up to meet her friends brown ones, and with a small gulp she pulled the veil over her face and walked from her home to the town church. Nicholas was already there, stood at the top of the isle near the alter, and when he turned to look at her, his blue eyes seemed to shine.

She couldn't help but gasp too. He was wearing his best clothing, black pants, shined boots, and a red coat that was buckled around his waist by a black belt with a golden buckle. His hair was trimmed, but still delightfully messy, and though he could have had a clean shave, he'd decided instead to trim his beard so it was neat and tidy. Amelia didn't think she'd have liked him to shave anyway, he always looked better with a beard.

As she took her final steps towards him, he held out his hand to her, and she reached back. His hand near enveloped hers, and she craned her neck to look up at him, grinning to herself as he looked down, his blue eyes bright and expressing such love for her it made her light headed.

"You look beautiful," he whispered, and it surprised her slightly that his voice could be so low and soft, when normally he was loud and outgoing.

"Thank you," she smiled, and she gave his hand a squeeze.

The pair were so lost in each others eyes that they barely registered the fact that it was time to say their 'I do's to one another. They exchanged their rings, hers a small silver one, his a large, thick golden one. Amelia noticed how his hands lingered on hers, as if he didn't want to let go, and she felt her heart fluttering and her breath hitch slightly as he looked up at her from under his eyelashes, smirking as he heard her gasp.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest announced to the church, and while their friends clapped and cheered, Nicholas stepped forward and lifted her veil, smiling widely, looking deep into her eyes as he stooped down to her. He hesitated for a second, his breath hot against her lips, then he pressed his lips against hers, kissing her. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, and though the kiss was gentle the auburn haired woman felt so much more emotion in it than she had in any kiss he'd given her before. It was a promise that he would love her until the day he died, and she wasn't sure how she knew it, but in her heart she was sure it was a promise he'd keep. And she fully intended to love him until her final day too.

As he broke the kiss and leaned back a little, he smiled warmly and planted another kiss on her forehead, whispering sweet words against her pale skin.

"I love you, Mrs North," he chuckled.

"I love you more, Mr North," she replied, giggling.

"I love you most."

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She'd been nervous about her wedding night, wondered if she'd be too tired and disappoint Nicholas or if she'd be too nervous about everything and not let him near her. She'd been tormented in the past. Been abused by men who had only seen her as a form of release, and had used her body against her will. She'd been nervous about Nicholas touching her... worried she'd flinch away from him, be afraid, and her heart had skipped beats as they'd made their way home in the snow with their hands clasped. But her new husband knew everything about her past and her troubles, and he'd been gentle with her. Held her close and kissed her sweetly, over her lips, jawline, neck and shoulders. His mouth had ghosted over her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

And he'd taken time to take her dress off her, unfastening each button carefully, loosening all the ties, peeling it from her and setting it aside gently. And his hands and brushed along her sides, over her rib cage and down to her hips, and he'd held her close and taken in every inch of her body while he marvelled at her.

Now Amelia lay with her head resting on Nicholas' shoulder, his arm around her to keep her close, hers over his chest while the sheets were pulled haphazardly over them to keep them warm. She was smiling to herself, her eyes closed peacefully as he traced patterns over her hand with his fingers.

"Are you asleep?" she heard him whisper while he pulled her a little closer to him, planting a kiss upon her forehead.

"No," she replied, opening her eyes slightly and peering through the dark to see him looking down at her with a small smile upon his lips. Shifting, Amelia raised herself up off the mattress and propped herself up on her elbow, the hand she had placed on Nicholas' chest tracing up over his collar bone and neck until she had cupped his cheek, her fingers just brushing his hairline.

"Good, I'm not tired," he chuckled, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her gently down towards him so he could capture her lips in a passionate kiss. He continued feathering kisses upon her jaw and cheek, and Amelia found herself sighing happily, though there was something niggling in the back of her mind.

"Nicholas," she started, easing herself away from him, her blue eyes staring into his. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," he urged, and she noticed how his brows furrowed together in concern.

"Will it always be like this?" she asked, but her voice had dropped to a hushed whisper, and she felt her heart clench as worry gripped her.

"Like what Mia?" he asked, his hand brushing through her hair, smoothing it down, soothing her.

"Like this. T-together... or will you be leaving again soon?"

She watched as he gaped at her, but then his mouth closed slowly, and he looked almost apologetic. Amelia noticed how he averted his gaze for a second, and when he looked back up at her his eyes seemed sad, and she felt that same sadness course through her, and slowly she lowered herself so her head was resting upon his chest and she heard his heart thumping away beneath her. Nicholas shifted a little himself, moving so he could wrap both arms around her waist and hold her close, his lips pressed against her head.

"When are you leaving?" she asked, not bothering to wait for an answer from him, because his silence spoke volumes.

"In a week, maybe a little later," he replied after a moment, stroking her back, running his fingers over every scar, tracing them with his fingers. But he accepted every inch of her, loved her, cherished her, and he swore to himself the second she'd cried to him about what she'd been through that he would never let anything bad happen to her again.

"How long will you be gone for?"

"Not long, two or three days," he promised, and she raised her head up off his chest and looked down at him. What little light there was shining through the crack in the curtains made her eyes glitter, and he raised his head up to kiss her.

"That's okay then," she smiled, kissing him back.

They lay quietly with one another, their breathing in sync her eyelashes fluttering against his skin while his fingers traced the marks over hers. It was when Amelia started giggling to herself that Nicholas felt his curiosity pique, and with a bemused smile he moved his hands under her arms and raised her up to look at her.

"What's so funny?" he asked, the smile still tugging at his lips.

"I always thought that you carried around your swords to compensate for something," she laughed, and he felt a little shocked, but found it extremely funny too.

"Is that so?" he asked between bursts out laughter.

"Yeah," she answered when her giggles had subsided, and she lay her head upon his chest again, letting her eyelids slide shut. "Guess I was wrong."


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews guys! :D

I've had some fantastic feedback from this, and tbh I need to thank aquodox for giving me the prompt for this. He's awesome.

This one is a little sappier. Sorry about that guys. And I know I said this would be a five part fic, but it's turning into six. Just so I can write a little more about them. I think it's working out fine, and I do hope you like it :)

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Amelia was curled up on the couch, a thick heavy book in her hands that she wasn't reading properly. Her eyes were crossing over the same line again and again, and each time it became harder to understand. It was the simplest sentence too, but her mind was somewhere else. Sighing, she put the book down on the coffee table and stared into the fireplace, biting her lip as she thought about everything she'd learned over the past week. It wouldn't help her any, going over the same thing in her mind again and again.

It was like the book. The more she went over it at this moment in time, the less it made sense to her.

The auburn haired woman pulled a large woollen blanket over her legs and leaned back into the couch, watching as the fire crackled in the hearth and smiling slightly to herself. She'd built it up because she knew when Nicholas came in he'd be freezing, as he'd been away for two weeks taking his hand carved toys around to towns. Winter was the hardest month for people in the towns at the North of Russia. Food became scarce, and it was harder to survive. It had been a few years since Nicholas started this ritual. He'd simply been whittling a chunk of wood down at one of the tables in her bar when a young man came in asking for directions, and his child was with him. A small girl, barely five years of age who looked exhausted already. She'd seen Nick by the window and asked him what he was doing, and simply refused to budge when he showed her the little horse he was carving out. It had been wonderful to watch her eyes light up as the figure took shape, and while Amelia explained that the town the man was trying to find was a few days journey from there, Nicholas delighted in shaping the horse how the child wanted. A long mane, long hair trailing down its legs to cover its hooves, one leg raised as if ready to start running.

She'd ended up offering them lodging in their spare room, because a storm was coming in and the last thing she wanted was for them to be out in such bad weather. It took a day for Nicholas to finish the horse, and they both watched the girl run around their sitting room while they talked to her father about what his business was.

It put ideas in Nicholas' head. If one child got so much joy from such a simple gift, then other children would too. So at the end of December when the Winter was coldest, he set out with a sack full of his little toys to take to children, just to make them a little happier.

A gust of cold air snapped Amelia back to reality, and her head swivelled around in time to see Nicholas push his way through the door, a thick layer of snow upon his shoulders and hat, and he looked extremely cold.

"Hello darling," she said cheerily, standing and walking towards him, reaching her arms up and brushing the snow from his shoulders as he took his winter hat off and shook the snow from it. After ten years of being together she'd noticed how his dark hair was peppered with little flecks of white. It was like the snow had stuck to him, and she often teased him about it. He smiled down at her though, his blue eyes twinkling at her as he did, and in one swift motion he'd stooped and kissed her chastely on her lips. Within seconds it had deepened, her arms snaking up around his neck while he placed one hand behind her back to pull her close to him, and the other tangled in her hair, keeping her lips fixed to his.

"I missed you," he told her when they finally broke for air, and she blushed as he moved away from her, shrugging his coat off and hanging it by the fire, pulling his boots off and putting them down too to dry them all off. "It's very warm in here, thank God," he laughed, turning to grin over at her.

"I knew you were coming home, and I knew you'd be cold," she explained with a shrug, picking his hat up from the table he'd dropped it on and walking over to put it by the fire. "Now go and wash, I'll start dinner."

He merely chuckled and did as he was told.

She'd prepared and put a Winter hare in the oven to cook by the time Nicholas had appeared in the kitchen, a towel draped around his shoulders, and he was only wearing his pants. Amelia shook her head, smiling as he sat down at the table and leaned back in the chair, groaning happily as he finally got off his feet after two weeks of being busy.

"So did it all go well?" she asked, opening one of the bottom cupboards where she had a keg put away specially for him. Pulling the tap she filled up a tankard for him and put it on the table in front of him. He merely smiled up at her, his eyes twinkling as he caught her around the waist and pulled her to sit down on his lap. His lips were pressed against her neck in seconds, and she felt happier than she had felt earlier right away. But there was still the matter of the news she had to tell him niggling in the back of her mind, and she found she couldn't enjoy his kisses as much as she wanted to.

"It went very well," Nicholas told her, smiling at her, brushing her auburn hair back from her face as he leaned in so their lips met.

"That's good," she breathed against his lips, her eyes half lidded as she looked into his. He nodded slightly, before his expression changed and he looked more concerned.

"What's wrong, my love?" he asked, raising his hand to cup her cheek and tilting her chin a little so he could look at her clearer. "You're normally more cheerful."

"I'm just thinking," she told him, raising her own hand to cover his, keeping it pressed against her cheek. Amelia could feel her stomach knotting nervously, and she didn't want to tell him what was on her mind in case he thought less of her.

"About?" he pressed, and the auburn haired woman knew it was time to come clean.

"I've been to the doctor," she said quietly, looking up so their blue eyes met and Nicholas could see the sadness there.

"What did he say?" he asked, nerves finding their way into his stomach. And he knew the answer before she actually gave it, because the tears that shone in her brilliant blue eyes made it obvious. He felt a twinge of sadness too, but smiled a little and pulled her closer to kiss her atop her head and rock her gently in his arms. Amelia cuddled up to her husband, taking comfort in his arms as the tears flowed down her face. "It's going to be okay, Mia."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, turning her face into his chest, and she heard him huff at her.

"Don't be sorry. You can't help it," he reassured her, pressing his face into her sweet smelling hair as she hiccuped slightly, listened to her chuckle slightly at what she'd done, before it died down and she was sad again.

"Nicholas, it means we won't be able to have children, ever," she told him, looking up at him as her big blue eyes glassy and shining, and she saw in his a few tears he'd not shed, and he merely rubbed them away.

"We'll find a way to have children Mia... we could adopt?" he suggested, wiping the tear tracks from her face. "But don't cry, everything happens for a reason, we'll just have to figure something else out."

"It's easy for you to say," she muttered, standing up and drying her face properly, moving from the kitchen and into the sitting room to throw another log on the fire. "You get to make children happy, you give them gifts and they love you... I'm nothing to any of them."

"Mia, that's not right and you know it," he cried, standing and walking over to his beautiful wife, taking the poker from her before she could stick it in the fire and he took her hand with his free hand, but she pulled away.

"Nicholas you don't understand!" she cried, and tears sprang to her eyes again. "We can't have children, and it's easy for you to fill that void because you still bring joy to little ones everywhere you go. They love you! And I _want_ children, I so desperately do... and I can't have them."

The man stood still, looking down at his wife who was crying freely, her arms wrapped around her torso as if she were hugging herself. She looked angry and frustrated, her hands balled into fists as she glared up at him.

"What can I do?" he asked quietly, wondering if she needed him to hold her, to listen to her and try and comfort her, but she shook her head and looked away from him and into the fire. Her bright blue eyes reflected the flames that were roaring up the chimney, tinting her eyes a bright orange.

"That's the thing Nicholas. You can't do anything," Amelia muttered, looking sad and hopeless, and Nicholas stood there feeling utterly useless himself. "I'm ready for a child, and we've been trying for so long... _so long_. I'll- I'll be okay," she said quietly, turning back to her husband and taking a step towards him, her hand raising up and stroking through his hair. "I am sorry though. I know you wanted to be a father."

Slowly she went back to the kitchen to check on their dinner, and Nicholas stood silently biting his lip. She might say there was nothing he could do, but he'd find a way. If there was one thing he could do, it was defy the odds. No, Amelia might not be able to give him a child. He might never be able to be a father, but he'd make damn sure that she did not feel alone.

He had a plan, but it would take a while to get everything in order.


	4. Chapter 4

Only two more chapters to go :D

Glad you're enjoying this, and thanks for the reviews!

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It had taken several years to put everything to effect. They'd been married now twenty five years, and neither of them regretted a single day. Not the arguments and petty fights, nor the cold shoulders given after said petty fights. They fondly remembered all those lazy mornings in bed when they'd tangled their fingers together and talked quietly until noon came about and they knew they had to make a move, to the times they'd sit in front of the fire sharing a blanket, both immersed in their own books. The fact that Amelia couldn't have children had bothered her for years, and then when she reached her mid forties she'd made her peace with the fact. It had taken a long time, and the amount of times he found her crying on the couch he simply couldn't count. But he'd never gotten angry or frustrated with her. She was in essence and form a mother without a child, and he found that fact heartbreaking. He'd pull her into his arms and kiss her tenderly, and whisper that it would all be alright. She'd told him once, when she'd gotten a little drunk after they spent a night at her bar after closing hours, that she wanted him to be happy. She'd said if that meant him finding another woman to love and have children with then he could go with her blessing, and she'd be happy because he'd be happy.

That time Nicholas had cried with her. He'd moved so suddenly and quickly around the table that it shocked her slightly, and when he pulled her into his arms and told her he wanted her and nobody else she'd burst out crying. He'd told her that he'd rather not be a father and get to live the rest of his days loving her completely than leaving her to pursue fatherhood.

They'd stayed curled up with one another on the floor, and she'd wept into his shoulder and he'd cried into her hair, and it broke his heart to realise that she thought so little of herself that she'd be happy if her husband would leave to find happiness of his own. He loved her, there was no question about it. He loved her. She swore off wine after that night.

And now, with him in his early fifties and her in her late forties, his hair had gone completely white now, and hers was something of a strawberry blonde. And they had a few new lines over their skin, wrinkles and blemishes that came with getting older, and with every new line Amelia got, each shade lighter her hair got, she still looked like the most beautiful woman in the world to him. He couldn't express how insane it seemed that she'd been okay with the idea of him leaving her years ago, because he'd never find anyone he'd love even a fraction as much as he loved her.

Amelia was standing on one of the platforms below him that made for the varying floors they were building in his new workshop. Her now strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, she was wearing a pair of thermal trousers there were a little too big on her, and for some reason when she'd got dressed that morning, she'd put one of his shirts on, and it was incredibly baggy on her. She'd fastened a belt around her waist to synch it in and he loved how it looked on her.

"This is incredible," she gasped, and Nicholas smirked down from the beam he was balancing on, grabbed a rope and swung down to the floor where Amelia was stood. "This is just... incredible."

"You've said that already Mia," he laughed, stooping and capturing her lips in a sweet kiss. "In fact, you have said nothing else since you got here."

"It is though!" she cried with such youthful abandon it made him beam at her. She looked about the new workshop, and what surprised her even more were the beasts walking about. They seemed friendly enough, and somehow Nicholas could communicate with them, but it still surprised her.

"I'm going to be able to do more here, for more children," he said, tilting her chin up and grinning. "And you can help."

"How can I help?" she asked curiously, looking about herself incredulously. She had no idea how to build a workshop or help at all, biting her lip slightly as she felt overwhelmed. She could hear Nicholas chuckling but before she was able to turn around she felt his arms wrap around her midriff and he pulled her close, making her smile.

"I don't need you to build, so don't worry. I need you to help me with some of my helpers."

She looked again at the Yeti walking about, great hairy beings with big bright eyes and moustaches that rivalled even her husbands lengthening facial hair. She had no idea how she'd help with them... would they listen to a woman who compared to them was positively tiny? Mind you, she was tiny compared to Nicholas and he still did as he was told she thought with a chuckle.

"Not them, Mia," he laughed, and the woman found herself breathing a sigh of relief. She turned in her husbands' arms and smiled up at him. He'd told her everything about his life, about all the little things he'd done before he met her – most of which she already knew – but he also told her about the more magical things in his life. The one that amazed her most was The Man In The Moon.

Tsar Lunar helped keep the world in order. He looked down on everyone and helped, and he'd found that in these times when life was harder for people they needed more happiness in their lives. Their dreams were being invaded by Pitch Black, the man who'd attacked her those long years ago, and he'd spoken to Nicholas to ask him to help protect those children, and make sure their dreams were not shattered. He, along with a few others selected by this magical being, would be spreading their love around the world.

"Which helpers then?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

"Them," he chuckled, nodding to something behind her and she turned again to see a group of tiny beings that barely came up to her knees running about and generally getting in the way. Trying to hold back a snort of laughter, Amelia looked at the tiny little things with big brown eyes, the widest smiles and very large pointed ears. She barely realised she squealed happily as she bent down and they rushed to her, all laughing and chattering to her, and she didn't understand a word of it, but she thought they were adorable.

"What are they?" she asked, smiling brightly at them as they clung to her.

"Elves," Nicholas laughed. "They tend to get under boot, and I was wondering if you could keep them entertained as we build. After that they can run wild, I don't mind."

"I would love to keep these little guys out of the way," she laughed, picking one up and trying to ignore the blush that spread across her face. "First though, I think we need to get them some clothing."

* * *

They lay together in their new bed, Amelia held close to his side as he told her all about his plans. Everything they did from this point on they would do together, and nothing would stop them. And she listened intently, smiling as he went on and on about his grand scheme... and though in some respects it seemed the most impossible plan in the world, she knew he'd managed every step of it. He was determined to bring good to the world, and Amelia supported him wholeheartedly.

He could bring so much to so many people, and she loved him for that. It was hard to believe that when they'd first met she'd despised him. She'd thought him an arrogant, self-obsessed idiot. In many ways he was, and she pointed it out to him often enough. He'd only smirk back and remind her how bossy she was and she'd shut up and huff at him. Which was when he reminded her that she was also getting increasingly moody as the years wore on. Despite their jibes, she loved him. She _loved_ him. As he was rambling on about the Winter Solstice, which was when he'd decided to start taking his gifts out to the world she shifted in his arms, raising her fingers to his lips, and he shut up immediately, looking up at his wife curiously. He smiled though, and kissed her fingertips slightly before reaching up and taking her hand in his.

"Have I been talking all this time Mia?" he asked, with a slightly chuckle in his voice.

"A little, but I don't mind," she smiled. "I want to say thank you, Nicholas."

"Why?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

"For bringing me here... I know why you asked me to look after the elves."

"You do?" he asked, and his frown deepened a little, and he looked a little hesitant as to how she would react.

"It took me all of three minutes with the elves to realise they're very much like hyperactive four year olds," she giggled, stooping a little to kiss him gently for a second, and upon breaking the kiss she tilted her head and pressed her nose against his, their foreheads touching. "You gave me children to look after... they might not be mine, but dear God they need me."

They laughed, and their blue eyes connected and conveyed such an intense warmth and love to the other that Nicholas craned his head again to capture her lips again, his arms wrapping around her and holding her there.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you anything better," he whispered to her when their lips parted, but she shook her head at him, smiling slightly.

"Nicholas, they're possibly the best thing you've ever left with me to sort out... believe me," she laughed, nudging him. "I'm sorry though, for getting so upset about it years ago. You had to put up with all my griping."

"You had reason to Mia," he soothed her before settling himself back into the mattress while she lay down again, her head resting upon his shoulder. "Besides, I'm sure it's in wedding vows; 'through headaches and griping, till death do us part, I do'."

He ignored the playful swat on his arm, and held her a little closer as they both fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

One chapter to go, and thanks to everyone who's reviewing :) You're awesome!

But you already know that, don't you? ;D

* * *

The day she'd collapsed, it had been awful.

He'd been working in his office, crafting new toys, when two of his Yeti had barged through the door crying out for him to follow them. He'd have shouted at them to get out because his office was the only place he got some peace from the chaos of the workshop. But as soon as one of them mentioned Amelia he'd bolted for the door, rushing down the hall to their bedroom where she'd been taken.

He only let one Yeti stay in the room, the group's healer, and he walked to the bed to look down at his sickly wife. Her skin was white as a sheet and her eyelids fluttered as she struggled to stay conscious, her eyes darting about as she tried to make sense of things. In forty years of marriage he'd never seen her look so weak, and Nicholas felt himself go weak as it came crashing around him that he couldn't do anything.

"Mia," he said gently, sitting on the bed beside her and taking her hand in his, running his thumb over her soft skin. Slowly she looked up at him and despite how terrible she looked, she managed a smile.

"Trust me to fall over," she whispered with a ghost of a chuckle. He couldn't laugh with her though, he couldn't even crack a smile. He looked down at her with tears welling in his eyes and felt his heart cracking as her breathing became more and more shallow. She tisked at him though, rolling her eyes. "Don't look so miserable Nicholas, it doesn't suit you."

"What happened?" he asked, although he knew all too well. She'd been in ill health for the last three years, and no matter what he did or how hard he tried Nicholas couldn't find a way to make her better. He'd seen Ombric, talked to Tsar, consulted with healers from all around... but there was nothing anyone could do. There was a cancer growing within her, and there simply wasn't a way to help her overcome it. Her body was destroying itself, and all he'd been able to do was watch as she died in the most painfully slow way.

She'd collapsed before, would complain of having a headache or feeling sick over something, but then her head would go light and she'd just collapse. Her knees would buckle beneath her, and she'd land in a heap on the floor. Normally he'd be with her, and often he'd be able to catch her, but she'd been in the kitchen this time with some elves, and when she'd fallen she'd hit her head quite badly. The elves had run for help, and the Yeti had run for him. As she explained this he could see a bruise blossoming upon her forehead already and reached up to stroke his thumb along it gently, frowning deeply.

"Mia, are you okay?" he asked quietly, and he watched as her smile faltered.

"I don't think so darling... I'm very tired," she whispered, looking away from him to the ceiling, averting her eyes as she blinked furiously to hold back tears.

"Don't sleep yet, we need to check your head," he told the frail woman, leaning in to kiss her gently, smiling as she kissed him back with as much tenderness as she'd always had. He broke this kiss and planted another on her bruising head, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat as he whispered to her;

"I love you."

"I love you too Nicholas, now get your beard out of my mouth," she laughed, and somehow he found himself laughing as he stood up, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at her smiling up at him, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles gently before he laid her hand back down gently and left the room while the healer did his work. Outside the door was a crowd of elves and Yeti, all mumbling between themselves until they saw him, and silence rolled over them.

"Back to work," he cried, shooing them away with a small scowl, before he followed them down the corridor himself.

He didn't know why, but he found his way to the globe and stared up at it, watching those little lights flicker and twinkle, and it made him sad. He was famous as St Nicholas, Santa Clause, the man who brought joy and wonder to the lives of all of those children. He couldn't even manage to make his wife well again, and a small doubt niggled in the back of his mind as to whether he could do his duty by those children.

A light caught his attention, and when he looked up he saw the moon shining down at him, and all of a sudden he felt rage and frustration bubble up within him, bursting out violently.

"What did she do?!" he yelled, his hands clamping tightly around the rail that stopped them all falling off the edge of the floor. "What did she do to deserve this?"

There was no answer, the light merely glowed down on him, and it fuelled his anger. When agreeing to become a Guardian Tsar had worked a magic to make him immortal. It had never crossed his mind that Amelia wouldn't be granted the same life. That they wouldn't be together forever. Forever had seemed a long time in his youth, but then there wasn't the possibility of forever meaning forever. Forever for him had been until death, and when he'd held Amelia close to him those countless nights and looked down at her beautiful sleeping face he'd always imagined what would happen – out of curiosity. He wondered if either would have to live a few years without the other, and then they'd rejoin in some utopia. Or maybe they'd fall asleep one night, close to one another, and neither of them would wake up. They'd go together...

But that would never happen now, and he'd lose Amelia, and he'd never have her again.

Angrily, he punched the wall, ignoring as his knuckles cracked under the sheer force and how pain shot up his arm, and the dent in the wooden pillar and the splinters in his hand was nothing compared to the pain he felt over losing the love of his life.

She was slipping like sand through his fingers, and Nicholas knew that.

"She never did anything wrong," he cried, clamping his eyes shut to black the light from the moon out. "I need her!"

His blue eyes opened again and he looked up sadly to where the moon was shining down at him, and he dragged his sleeve across his face to wipe away the tears.

"I can't do this without her..."

* * *

In three days he'd watched Amelia deteriorate rapidly, and he ignored his work and spent every second by her side. At night he cradled her in his arms until she managed to fall asleep through the pain she felt, and during the day he'd sit in their room with her and read to her, or talk quietly about their fondest memories. When she smiled he found himself smiling, and while she slept he stayed awake, looking at her, memorising each and every detail, making sure he'd always remember how her eyelashes fluttered, and how her lips parted slightly and her chest rose and fell slowly as she breathed. And when she dreamed she smiled slightly, and she was never more beautiful because she wasn't guarded. She looked peaceful.

And it was killing him, because soon he'd not get to look at her, and he'd only have his memories.

She was watching him now, as he stared out of the window at the snow drifts and the ice cliffs up around the Pole, her bright blue eyes looked tired but still alert, and her lips curved downwards into a small frown.

"Nicholas," she said quietly, and he turned his head quickly to face her, his eyes widening as she raised a hand to him, and he took it carefully, pressing it to his chest and holding it there.

"Yes?" he asked, and she raised a brow at him.

"Stop being so depressed," she told him, and he felt his mouth drop open incredulously. "And don't give me that look either. It's going to be okay."

"How?" he choked, and for the first time in days he found he couldn't hold back the tears, and the ran tracks down his face to get lost in his beard. "How is it going to be okay?"

"Sweetheart, come here," she said gently, pulling her hand from his grasp and pushing against the mattress to sit herself up. Nicholas went to stop her, but she shot him a look and instead he bit his lip and moved her pillows around, making it more comfortable to sit up. When he was close though she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he heard her gasp and sensed her wince as pain shot through her. "I know it seems bad now," she whispered, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. "I know... but it gets better."

"You don't know," he mumbled and he heard her huff and then she was crying too and he felt terrible because he'd said something to cause it.

"I don't know? Nicholas, do you think dying is easy?" she cried, and he set her back against the pillows before cupping her face and rubbing her tears away with his thumbs. "Do you know what it's like to feel weaker every day, to feel your body failing and... and I'm leaving you... do you know how guilty I feel?"

Nicholas merely stared at her, and she sighed slightly, her eyes closing as she thought about something, before opening them again. The bright blue seemed to glitter, and he stroked her white blonde hair away from her face, before she craned her neck towards him and pressed their lips together.

It was soft, and tender, and they both made sure to save every second of it as their lips moulded together, pressing gently, and they tried their damned hardest to show how much the loved one another within those few moments. It was slow, and lasting, and when they did break apart neither moved away and their lips stayed brushing one another. If that moment could have lasted lifetimes, then they both wished it would have. That it wouldn't have to end.

"I do love you Nicholas," Amelia told him, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "And you do realise I'll never leave you."

"I know," he said softly, slipping his arm around her back to pull her into an embrace again. "I love you too Mia."

After spending hours talking to one another, Amelia lay down again, settling into the bed.

"We're saying that a lot lately," she mused, pausing before looking back up at him. "Nicholas, can I ask you something?" she said, brushing her hair from her face as she made herself comfortable, and he noticed how she seemed to be slowing down.

"Of course."

"I've always wondered why you came into my bar," she told him. "I remember you saying to another man that you were just passing, but you stayed."

"Oh, that's simple," he laughed, surprised she'd been wondering something for so long but had never brought it up before. "I saw you."

"That's a lie, you're just being nice," she chuckled, but he shook his head.

"No, it's the truth," he exclaimed, "I was just passing through to start with, but I saw you. You were beautiful – you still are – and you had such a temper."

"Which I still do," she interjected, and he beamed at her.

"You were fierce, and you were lovely, and I fell in love with you the second you told me to shut up."

"I'm glad I did then," she mused, but Nicholas noticed how her eyes were drooping, and her breathing slowed, and he gulped slightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a whisper, and Amelia hummed slightly.

"I'm tired, darling, I think I'm ready to sleep," she whispered, but there was a double entendre in her words, and he gulped slightly as her eyelids fluttered closed, but she struggled to keep them open, fighting it. "You'll be okay, won't you?"

"I'll be fine," he said quietly, cupping her face with one hand, forcing a smile as she looked up at him tiredly. "It'll be okay," he whispered, stroking her cheek with the back of his fingers, soothing her.

"You promise?" she asked, leaning into his touch. "I'm not sleeping unless you promise."

"I promise Mia, I'll be okay," he said, lying, and she knew he was, but exhaustion was taking over.

"I'm not really going Nicholas. I'll still be around."

"I know."

"And I love you, so much," she breathed.

"I love you too," he told her, his voice shaking as her eyes slid shut. He noticed the small smile ghosting across her face and though no noise came out, her lips mouthed the words;

'_Love you more_.'

Nicholas St North sat quietly and held his wife's hand as she slipped deeper into sleep, then slowly slipped away. Her chest stopped rising and falling, her heart gave one last thump against her chest, and her eyelashes fluttered no more. He watched his wife die beside him, illness taking her from him at only sixty-three years of age. And though he felt angry that he'd had to lose her, that she couldn't spend forever with him here, his grief was stronger. As tears poured down his face he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead gently one last time. He wanted to say goodnight to her, but his mind reeled with the idea that she wasn't going to be there in the morning, and he'd wake up without her. Goodnight wasn't on the tip of his tongue, so instead he told her;

"I love you most."


	6. Chapter 6

Last chapter!

Thanks for reading everyone, I hope you've enjoyed it :)

Review please

* * *

"North, can I ask you something?" Jack blurted, looking about his office as he sat in the chair that was miles too big for him. Nicholas looked down at the boy, smiling slightly when he saw him wearing his hat, trying to lift one of his swords up but failing miserably. The teen had been a guardian for a year now, and was at the Pole at least once a week to talk to him. Nicholas liked the company, it was nice having another person to talk to for a change.

"Of course," he said with a smile, setting his tools down from the ice he was sculpting and looking the model over, wondering if he liked it or not.

"I was wondering something, but you don't have to answer if it's stupid," Jack continued, pushing the fur hat up again as it slipped over his bright blue eyes, wisps of white hair poked out all around the edges, and the older man chuckled as he looked at the boy.

"Just ask," he urged, deciding he didn't actually like the sculpture and he pushed it off the table into a large bucket.

"I wanted to know why people always refer to a Mrs Clause, when there's only you," he said quietly, and for the first time in years Nicholas felt his stomach plummet. He'd been over this with the other Guardians, they'd all heard about Amelia and sympathised with him greatly over it, but Jack was new, and Jack didn't know.

"Um... it's a long story," he found himself saying, although he really didn't know how to explain it to the boy. "There was a Mrs Clause."

"Really?" Jack asked quietly, and when he saw the sadness shining from the elder gents blue eyes he gulped and removed the hat, looking sheepish and guilty. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want, you know."

"Ah, I don't mind. It was a long time ago," Nicholas told the younger boy, forcing a smile before he walked towards the desk and sat down on it. "When I was very young, I had a wife. She was called Amelia."

"Was she nice?" Jack asked, leaning forward in the chair, looking at the Russian curiously.

"The nicest woman alive, if you were nice to her. I annoyed her many times and, believe me, I knew about it," he laughed, recalling the first real conversation they'd had in her bar the night he'd saved her from Pitch. "She thought I was arrogant, and selfish-"

"Were you?" Jack laughed, grinning widely.

"I'll let you in on a secret Jack," Nicholas said, lowering his voice, "sometimes I still am."

The pair of them burst out into laughter, and Jack shook his head, claiming he was lying. Nicholas only chuckled and opened the drawer beside his leg. There were three pictures inside, and he pulled the first out. It was him on their wedding day. Lana, Amelia's friend had insisted on drawing them portraits to commemorate the day. It was a good thing she had a very good memory and a fantastic hand, otherwise he'd have had to sit for hours and pretend he was happy about it. It surprised him slightly, looking at this picture of him when he was young; short brown hair, fit and healthy... not the white haired old man with a pot belly he was now. Chuckling to himself, he handed the picture to Jack, and watched with mild amusement how the boys' mouth dropped open and he stared dubiously at the picture, his eyes flitting from the young man there to the elderly man sat before him.

"No way," he said finally, a small smirk crossing over his face.

"I might have eternal life Jack, but not eternal youth," Nicholas laughed, smirking back. "A year before this I travelled, fought, got drunk, and one night I went into a bar and met Amelia."

"She was in the bar?"

"She owned the bar. She was very driven, liked to do things her way. Women didn't normally have their own businesses back then. She broke up fights, threw people out, ran the whole place by herself."

"Sounds amazing," the teen mumbled, looking back down at the young image of the older Guardian, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. "And you annoyed her?"

"Very much," he reached into the drawer again, and pulled out the picture of Amelia. Again it was from their wedding day, but he'd not looked at the picture in a while and had forgotten how beautiful she looked back then. Her eyes were bright, her hair long and waved, a smile gracing her lips as she clasped her hands in front of her. There was something delightfully awkward about the picture, he could sense an attitude about the woman and he knew she hadn't wanted to have a portrait done, but again Lana insisted. He loved that attitude about her, fell for her because of it, and he handed the picture to Jack. "She still married me though."

Jack spent a moment looking at the picture, his eyes scanning over every little detail and he nodded slightly, a smile finding it's way to his lips too, and he looked up at his friend.

"She looked beautiful," he said quietly.

"She always did, I was very lucky," Nicholas agreed.

"Yeah," Jack laughed, grinning. "You wouldn't get that chance again."

"Wouldn't want it," the Russian said with a small smile, taking the picture from the teen and looking at it again, and for a second he found himself lost in her eyes, like he always did so long ago. "It was hard sometimes, but we made it through."

"What happened?"

Nicholas explained to him that at the start of the relationship he had to go away often to find work. They were hard times he'd lived in, where money was scarce and food scarcer. If you couldn't set a trap for wild hares then you generally wouldn't eat at all. He told the boy how they couldn't have children, and though it upset Amelia she came to accept the idea, and they lived a long and happy life together. Until, of course, she died.

"How did she die?" Jack asked quietly, his arms wrapping around his torso as if he were hugging himself, and his mouth curved downwards in a small frown. Nicholas was reminded briefly of Amelia, the way she would hold herself when she felt sad, and he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat before continuing.

"She became very sick, her body couldn't cope, and she died in bed... in her sleep."

"I'm sorry, North."

"Don't be," the older man said with a small smile. "Nothing could be done."

"Why couldn't Manny have brought her back?"

The question drifted through Nicholas' mind, and it was one he'd asked himself many times when he lay alone in bed at night, staring blankly at the empty space beside him where his lovely Mia should have been. He felt himself shrug slightly. He'd given it a lot of thought over the years, and he'd only managed to come to one conclusion.

"She must have been needed somewhere else."

There was a silence for a few minutes, and North looked at Jack who had leaned forward in the chair and was peering into the drawer at the last portrait. It was one Amelia had loved, and he'd been surprised it had been made. It was the pair of them, dancing together after their wedding ceremony, and somehow Lana had managed to capture the love in the picture. He'd been holding Amelia close to him, her head was tilted up and they were looking into one another's eyes. She was beaming at him, and he'd only been able to look at her, not bothered about anything or anyone else. She'd captivated him. She always had.

"You looked happy together," Jack said, glancing over the picture.

"I loved her, she was amazing," he said quietly, twisting the heavy gold ring around his thumb. It was his wedding ring and even though his wife was gone, and had been for years, he'd never been able to let go of it.

"She sounds it, I wish I'd been able to meet her."

Nicholas smiled at Jack, pondering it for a moment before he nodded and stood up, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder. He loved Jack, he was like the son he'd never had, and the amount of time he spent at the Pole made everything a little less lonely, and a little more fun.

"She would have liked you Jack," he told the teen, and the younger Guardian grinned up, his chest puffing out proudly. "She'd have treated you as her own if she'd had half the chance."

"Really?"

"Well I think so," he smiled down, before putting the pictures away in his desk drawer and turning back to another block of ice, wondering how he could change the design to make the toy perfect.

* * *

Before he'd gone to bed that night, Nicholas had taken the picture of Amelia from his drawer and taken it into his room. He spent hours staring at it, comparing how youthful she looked there to how tired she'd been when she passed away. And even over the years when she complained about her weight gain, or her wrinkles, or how she was going grey, he'd never cared. She looked as beautiful to him the day she took her final breath as she did the day he'd first seen her throwing some drunkard out of her bar.

And he missed her. He missed her every day. He'd gotten used to being alone in bed a long time ago, got used to the silence at the breakfast table and the nights sat on the couch in front of the fire reading her favourite book, without her peering over his shoulder and smiling as she pointed to a paragraph to remark how that was a good part. The endings of books were always a surprise to him now, because she didn't read them first and say how shocked she was that the father ended up being the murderer. Then she'd get mad because he'd say she spoiled the ending, and blame him because he should read faster. He'd argue that she took all the good books, and the arguing would escalate until she'd stormed off and slammed doors on her way out.

Those kinds of arguments could never be won. Even if he was the victor, he felt like he'd hurt her and there was always some loss associated with that. He'd pursue her, find her, hold her close and kiss her and assure her he wasn't going to read that book anyway, and she'd saved him half a job. They always made up, even after she spoiled books.

And Nicholas wished she was still there to spoil books for him, and he imagined if she were the book on his bedside, her favourite, would have been worn away now through use.

Placing her picture beside the book, he lay down and pulled the blanket over him, settling down to sleep. As his eyes closed slowly, he looked briefly at Mia's picture yet again, and found himself smiling back at her. She'd been right. She was never truly gone, he still felt her presence around the Pole. Something warm and comforting on those especially cold and lonely nights. She was there every day, he'd never really lost her. So with a yawn, he shut his eyes tightly, and whispered to her;

"Goodnight."


End file.
